


Between The Pages

by AderynBennett88



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: ADSC Universe, Admiration, Bookshop, Cute, Link/Shad - Freeform, M/M, Other, Shad/Link - Freeform, Shy, Talking Link (Legend of Zelda), Twilight Princess, Unrequited Crush, platonic, spending time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27837580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AderynBennett88/pseuds/AderynBennett88
Summary: Shad has relocated to Castle Town with the intention of opening a bookshop. But when he discovers the Hero of Twilight is close by, he can't resist inviting him for a cup of tea...
Relationships: Link/Shad (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

Shad mopped his brow with a handkerchief, his glasses fogging. It had taken almost a full day, but at last, each and every box containing his books had been taken from the cart and lugged inside his brand new bookshop.

Well. It wasn’t _brand_ new. The building itself was at least a hundred years old, the wallpaper peeling, the timbers worm-eaten and dusty. But that didn’t matter. He was here, at last, in Castle Town, the very heart of Hyrule’s research centre! He was only a few miles from the castle, where the royal family kept an archive that he could only dream about! He couldn’t even begin to anticipate just what the local library had in store, or the Church of Hylia, or even the old streets themselves! He had had too little time to explore the last time he was here.

Shad pocketed his handkerchief and paid the driver of the cart, who flicked his reins and moved away before Shad had even closed the door. He had been a gruff and silent man, and Shad, ever the nervous nelly, had kept up a stream of forced, lighthearted chatter to fill the surly silence as he rode from Kakariko to Castle Town.

But no matter. He was here! And he had all afternoon to sort through his books, a task that never daunted him. With a small smile, Shad wondered if he should move again in a few months, just so he could pack up his books again, taking the time to caress each cover, to flip through the pages, to fondly remember how he acquired each one as he laid them carefully down, wrapping each in cloth.

But no. He was here for a reason. Here, there would be so much to learn. Here, he would be close to the castle, and he could see about requesting access to their archives, or even their fabled vaults. Here, he would be close to old friends. Telma still had her bar, after all, and he understood that Auru and Ashei were frequent visitors. And here, it was said that the Hero of Twilight, Link, would sometimes be seen.

Only, it was _Ser_ Link now, Shad remembered. He had been knighted for saving the kingdom. Shad hadn’t seen him since the Resistance disbanded, and he found he quite missed the young lad. For such a destiny to be placed upon him, he had carried the weight of it rather well, and done them all an enormous favour, what with saving their lives, and all that.

Shad wound through the house, stepping over and around boxes brimming with books. His furniture was already set up, and he admired the empty shelves, eager to see them filled once more. It would be a mighty task, and it was one he could not wait to begin. But first, a cup of tea.

Shad boiled water and stared through his kitchen window to his back garden, a fairly spacious thing with a pond and plants overgrowing to the point of madness. But he rather liked it. The wildness of the garden was delightfully different to his neatly ordered life, and he indulged himself a moment in a fancy of great, predatory cats prowling through the long grass, of forest monkeys swinging from the tree, of a phoenix rising over the wall.

Tea made, Shad retreated to a back room and sat, sinking into the plush cushions of his settee. He was rather pleased with his purchase. His home overlooked the town square, and whilst it may be noisy during the day, it was perfectly situated to entice customers. The front of his two storey home would be his bookshop, in which he would sell books that he had more than one copy of, or works that he knew by heart, and other such things. His rare and special books, of course, would be kept safe and out of sight.

As Shad relaxed further into his sofa, he let his eyes flutter shut. The last time he had been to Castle Town was when he was part of the Resistance, Telma’s little rag-tag bunch of rebels. He had joined mainly for the prospect of furthering his research into the Sky People, and as luck would have it, Link had helped him out enormously in that little endeavour.

Though he had never gotten around to asking him about that giant cannon they found. Somehow, inexplicably, it had vanished, along with the Hero, once Shad had come back down to inspect it after leaving Link alone for a time under Renado’s house. He had only seen Link once after that, when he had succeeded in battle and vanquished the Twilight, during what was possibly the most glorious celebration Hyrule had seen in centuries. Then had not been the right time to pepper him with questions.

Shad smiled. He had been such an eager young chap, so determined to right the wrongs of the realm. He had been so strong, so brave. And rather handsome, to boot.

Shad cleared his throat and slurped at his tea, sitting straight. What a curious thing to recollect! But naturally, one would notice such things, when they were so blatantly obvious. But never mind that. Shad had books to sort.

XXXXXXX

It took a week, but Shad was finally satisfied that his books were properly sorted. Or at least, as sorted as they could be. It seemed he had rather underestimated how many books he was unwilling to sell, and the shop part of his home looked dreadfully sparse. The rest of his house, however, was full to the brim. Books were stacked neatly on shelves, yes, but they were also piled high along the walls, leaning against tables, sneaking around the back of his desk. Scrolls, too, piled high, and Shad wondered if he ought not tie them together and hang them from the ceiling, out of the way.

Upstairs was much the same, but Shad found he didn’t mind in the least. It was rather comforting, to be surrounded by such wonderful works of fact and fiction. He knew where everything was, and even if he had to be careful when walking through every room in his house, that was fine.

Shad spent a morning lovingly straightening and dusting his books, before popping on his favourite hat and taking to the streets of Castle Town for his daily stroll. No sooner was he outside than he noticed a buzz in the air. The people milling about seemed rather excited, chattering together and smiling. Curious, Shad approached a vendor.

“Good morning, dear fellow,” he said.

“Mornin’ mate,” the gentleman replied, slinging a grin on to his face. “Getchu anythin’?”

“Oh,” Shad peered at the wrapped parcels of meat on his wagon. “No, thank you. I was wondering what all the bother is about this morning?”

“Aha!” the vendor grinned. “Nowt much, me old chum. Folk always get in a flutter like, when the Hero comes back to town.”

“Link?” Shad blinked and put a hand to his chest. “He’s here?”

“Well, back at the castle, like,” the vendor shrugged. “Lives there now, dunne? Him bein’ the princess’s Chosen Knight, an’ all.”

“Oh, gracious, I didn’t realise,” Shad said. He knew Link had been knighted, but he had never realised to true extent of the honours bestowed upon him. “So, he lives at the castle?”

“Aye, lucky bugger. See ‘im sometimes. He’s always polite, like, but never stays long to chat. Gots people followin’ ‘im wherever he goes.”

“I expect so,” Shad murmured. “Well, thank you, good fellow. For your trouble.” Shad dug in his purse and pulled out a blue rupee, passing it to the vendor. He moved away as the vendor thanked him heartily, lost in his thoughts.

Link was here, living close by. He must be terribly busy, running errands for and protecting the princess. But… Shad stared up at the castle, sitting far to the east, a mile away. Following the destruction of half the castle during the Twilight Crisis, it had been moved further away and renovated. Still part of the town, but better protected, now. It would be lovely to see Link again, to catch up, to share old stories… to learn of what he knew about the Sky Cannon…

Shad chuckled. It would be terribly presumptuous of him to expect the great Hero of Hyrule to favour him with his presence. But it never hurt to ask.

Back at home, Shad penned a quick letter in his flowing script. A letter, he would have been embarrassed to admit, took him six tries to get right.

_Dear Link,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. It has been quite some time since we have seen each other, and I rather wondered if you fancied a catch up over a spot of tea? I have bought a house in the Town Square, you’ll surely recognise it for all the books in the window._

_I do understand if you are too busy, but my door will always be open for old friends._

_With all the very best wishes,_

_Your friend, Shad._

Shad dithered for another hour before he posted the letter, then spent a further two fretting about it, before scolding himself for his silly behaviour.

“Why am I getting myself in such a tizzy?” he chided himself. “It’s just an invitation to tea with a friend. A very important friend. One mustn’t get one’s hopes up.”

Shad retired that evening with a hot cup of milk and a good book, drifting off to sleep with a hopeful smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Shad awoke in the morning to find a light mist had descended over Castle Town. Such was the way of things in autumn, and far from finding the fog depressing, he found it rather beautiful. In Kakariko, he would often wake deliberately early in the morning to climb to the highest building and watch the sun rise over the misty lands. There was a strange beauty in it, watching the fog glisten and twinkle in the early light, only to slowly fade as the sun drew herself over the horizon and bathed the land in her warmth.

It wasn’t quite the same in Castle Town, he found. The mist would be dissipated by the many hurrying feet of its denizens, shooed away like a manky alley cat in the cold light of dawn.

Shad pottered about his kitchen, preparing his breakfast, before settling down to read over his notes about the Twili, the race that had beleaguered them so during the Twilight Crisis. They made for rather a fascinating study, but unfortunately, there was scant research to be found. Perhaps Link could assist him. If he ever responded. If he found the time. If he remembered him.

It was midmorning before Shad heard the telltale _thunk_ of parchment falling to the doormat. _He had a letter_. Eagerly, he hopped up, marking his place in his notes. The letter was a simple thing, a cream envelope with a slightly scruffy scrawl on the front, bearing his name and a single other word - _Bookshop_. The letter inside was much the same, simple and scruffy, but it made Shad smile more widely than he had in a long time.

_Shad,_

_Great to hear from you, I’d love to catch up. Tomorrow at noon?_

_Yours,_

_Link._

Shad almost knocked over a stack of books in his eagerness to reach his desk.

_Dear Link_

_How superbly wonderful to hear from you! Of course, old boy, I’d be delighted. Shall we say, my house at midday? It’s not hard to miss, I’m sure I’ve said it’s the one with all the books! Oh, deary me, look at me wittering! I’ll make sure I pop the kettle on._

_I’m rather looking forward to it, it has been far too long since we spoke._

_With the best wishes,_

_Your friend,_

_Shad_

XXXXXXX

Shad was a flurry of excitement all through the afternoon and into the next morning. He spent an ungodly amount of time cleaning, and the evening baking, throwing out his first two attempts at a cake when they revealed themselves to be a burnt disk and a sludgy mess, respectively. His third try was acceptable, and he delighted in flinging jam and cream into the middle, dusting the top with sugar and decorative strawberries. Resisting the urge to have a bite then and there, he set it carefully aside.

He barely slept, and spent the morning alternating between pacing his way round his house, straightening books and scrolls, and sitting nervously, trying to read, eyeing the timepiece on the wall, watching the hand crawl towards twelve.

Twelve came and went, and Shad began to fidget even worse. He boiled the kettle twice as the timepiece showed a quarter past the hour. He was beginning to despair as a further five minutes passed, when the door sounded with a sharp rap.

Shad flew to the door and tugged it open. He felt his jaw drop as he took in the person standing on the threshold. Link was a boy no longer. He had become a man.

He seemed to have grown at least a foot in the time since Shad had seen him last. His shoulders and chest were broader, his tunic straining across the obvious muscle. His eyes were the same startling blue that he remembered, however, and his smile was the same, stretching first like a piece of taffy candy, then splitting to show his white, even teeth as his smile became a grin.

“Shad!” Link stepped forward and grabbed the scholar in a tight hug. “It’s great to see you!”

“And you, dear boy,” Shad gasped, his glasses askew. He patted Link on the back, and the Hero released him, grinning.

“Can I come in?” he asked. He glanced over his shoulder. There was a crowd gathering, peering at him, pointing and staring. Shad looked back to Link, and saw his smile had become rather forced.

“Of course,” he stood back and allowed the Hero inside, closing the door with a snap. Link visibly relaxed as the door shut.

“Um, this way,” Shad said, finding himself at a sudden loss for words.

“You have a lovely home,” Link said, looking around.

“Terribly sorry about the mess,” Shad said. He cursed himself silently. _Why_ had he not thought to take some of the books upstairs? With Link’s broad shoulders, it was a wonder he was able to squeeze through the maze. How terribly inconsiderate of him, Link must think him a dreadful host!

They made their way to the kitchen without incident, and Shad relaxed a little. Here, the only books were cookery books, for he could not risk his precious tomes being damaged by the sorts of things that went on in a kitchen. Link eased himself to sit at the tiny, scrubbed table, and Shad busied himself with the kettle, boiling it for the third time. The water heated in moments, and he poured tea for them both, before bringing out his cake.

Now that he looked at it, it seemed such a haphazard thing, uneven and sloppily made. But Link was craning his neck, trying to see what Shad was so woefully failing to hide. With a tense smile, Shad laid it on the table, and Link’s eyes lit up.

“Looks great,” he said. Relieved, Shad served them both a slice, and watched nervously as Link took a bite. The slice didn’t last more than three bites, and Link grinned, sugar on his lips. Shad found himself rather hot under the collar as he nibbled his own cake, handing Link the knife to serve himself another slice.

“So…” he began. “How… have you been, old boy? It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Link nodded. “I’ve been okay. Thanks. What about you?”

“Oh, you know, getting by.” Shad waved his hand about the room. “I bought this place to sell books, you know. I thought it would be a nice idea.”

“It’s a great idea.” Link nodded, and glanced over Shad’s shoulder to the garden, visible beyond the window. “It’s a lovely place.”

“Thank you.” Shad sipped his tea. He was still at a loss for words. All the things he had wanted to ask the Hero suddenly seemed inappropriate. They had only just met for the first time in years, after all, and it would be the height of bad manners to pester him with questions about the Sky People, or the Twili. But now, without that direction, Shad was unsure which way he should steer the conversation. Link had always listened politely to his ramblings about his research, but Shad knew from experience that it bored the veritable pants off most people. He didn’t want to bore Link.

“Have you had many adventures since I saw you last?” he asked.

He was dismayed to see Link’s smile fade somewhat.

“A few,” he said, dropping his gaze to his cup. “Nothing exciting, I’m afraid. Doing stuff for Zelda, mostly. I’m usually standing about by the throne, or standing guard at her door, or escorting her about the castle.”

“That sounds rather exciting,” Shad said, trying to be nice. Link gave him a look and snorted.

“It’s… a job,” he said.

Shad nodded and sipped his tea again. Link seemed rather different to the young lad he had known. This man was quieter, more reserved. Not terribly so, he wasn’t totally shut off, but it seemed to the scholar that the Hero had no desire to talk about himself. Shad couldn’t blame him. Link had been the hot topic of Hyrule since the defeat of Ganondorf and the vanquishing of the Twilight. The poor boy must be heartily sick of it all.

But then what was there to talk about?

“Are you seeing anyone?” he blurted out. Link blinked, then chuckled.

“I was,” he said. “A girl in Lanayru. The distance was a problem. Zelda never liked me being away for long.”

“Was? Terribly sorry,” Shad said, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. He simply must try to think before he spoke, lest he put his foot in the pudding once more!

“It’s fine,” Link said. “It was only a fling. What about you?”

Shad felt his cheeks burn a deeper scarlet, but he forced a laugh. “No, old boy. I fear I’m married to my books!” he fidgeted. They were both unattached. How curious.

But Link simply nodded, and lowered his eyes to his cup once more. Shad floundered. What could he say? This day was not turning out the way he had hoped. He had hoped for laughter and easy conversation, but it was not coming so easily as he had wanted. He glanced up at the Hero again, noting the lines that were beginning to appear on his forehead. Surely he was too young for such things? Shad’s own forehead was smooth, though his eyes did squint a tad if the light got too low. Would Link find that unattractive? He shook himself.

“What do you do on your days off?” he asked, a little hesitantly.

Link gave a small smile.

“What’re ‘days off?’” he asked, a hint of his old, silly self shining through, though it was heavily tainted with weariness. “I tell the princess I’ve got to investigate something or other, and I catch a few hours kip, or see old friends.” His smile became truer. “It’s good to see you again, Shad. Truly. I’m happy you wrote to me.”

Shad returned his smile, and ducked his head, taking off his spectacles and polishing them, more to find something to do with his hands than anything else. “It’s terribly good to see you too, old boy. We simply mustn’t leave it so long next time.”

Link nodded. “Yeah. Maybe we should get everyone back together at Telma’s bar.”

“What a splendid idea,” Shad said, though secretly, he wondered why the Hero would suggest such a thing. Was his company not good enough? Had he made such a fool of himself already that Link would not want to be alone with him one moment more? How dreadful for him.

“More cake?” Shad asked, tentatively.

Link accepted, and they lapsed back into silence. Link occasionally broke it to ask a gentle question about his work, or make a soft comment to show he was listening. Shad seized upon such things, waxing lyrical for up to ten minutes before he realised that he must be boring Link terribly, and trailing off. Link would wait a moment, and ask something else, and the cycle would repeat.

But before long, he rose.

“Sorry, Shad, but I ought to go. Zelda gets a bit funny if I’m away for too long.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s an honour to be her Chosen Knight, but…” he shook his head. “It’s been great to catch up, I really enjoyed it. We should do this again.”

“Oh, most definitely,” Shad bounced to his feet. It was a terrible shame that Link had to go, and Shad kicked himself mentally, berating himself for his poor company. How could he expect to see Link again if he had made himself such a dull host? It seemed as though such a short time had passed, hardly enough to catch up. And though their conversation had been stilted, he found he rather enjoyed the company of his old friend. “Should we make plans now, or…?”

“I can call on you again in a week or so, if Zelda doesn’t send me to the arse-end of the realm,” Link said, with a small smile. He made his way through to the back room, winding carefully through the towering stacks of books, aiming for the hall.

“Next week would be lovely,” Shad said. “I can make another cake.”

Link turned. “That would be-“

His words were cut off with a muted curse as he bumped one of the stacks, his broad shoulders too wide for the turn. He and Shad stood still, watching as the tower teetered, wobbled, and came crashing down. The stack collapsed into another, and that one fell into another, and another, until all of Shad’s carefully piled books toppled, burying the two men in a sea of parchment and leather up to their waists.

Speechless, Shad looked to Link, how was holding his hands in the air, staring, aghast, at the chaos. He found the scholar’s eyes.

“Gods, Shad, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I… I don’t…”

Shad began to laugh. It was so wonderfully absurd, all his careful work, all his meticulous stacking, brought to its knees by a handsome, muscular man. Link did not follow suit. He tried to extract himself from the sea and failed.

“Really, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll help you sort this out.”

Shad calmed a little. “Oh, don’t be daft, old boy. It’s a nightmare to sort, you shouldn’t trouble yourself with it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Link replied. “It was my fault, I’m not just going to leave you with this mess! Let me help.”

Shad stifled a giggle. “Well, if you insist, old boy, I shan’t say no to a little help. These books are rather heavy, you know.” The idea of spending more time with the Hero made Shad go all quivery. But, as Link hefted eight large books into his arms, he smiled.

“I’ll pop the kettle on, shall I?”


	3. Chapter 3

As the sun arced through the afternoon sky, Shad knelt in the only part of his floor that wasn’t still covered with books. To his horror, Link had seemed quite content to lump together whatever tomes he got his hands on first, mixing up anthologies with physics, books on history with biology, and even a few slim volumes on his precious Skywriting had somehow made it into a stack of romance novels.

Naturally, as soon as Shad had pointed out that his books needed order, his cheeks flaming at his presumptuousness, Link set about rectifying his mistake, taking care to look at the titles of the books, even flicking through a few pages to determine the type of document he held in his strong hands.

They worked in silence for the next hour, Shad stealing furtive glances at Link as he bent and twisted, reaching for leather-bound pages and sorting them carefully. After many such sneaky glances, Link looked up and caught him in the act. Shad blushed and ducked his head. Link gave a chuckle.

“I think I’m getting it right now,” he said, his voice cheerful. “Though it’s a bit tricky to know where to put all your Skywriting and… is this Ancient Hylian?” he lifted a slim book jacketed in a fuzzy, fern green.

“It is,” Shad said, taking the book and flipping through the pages. “Just pass those over here, old boy, I’ll sort them out.”

“Is it hard to learn?” Link asked, nodding at the book. “Only, not many people I know can read it. You, and the princess. Maybe a scholar or two.”

“It’s devilishly tricky,” Shad admitted, allowing himself the humble boast. “But time and dedication do wondrous things to a mind. It’s rather more easy than Skywriting, however.” He risked a look at Link again. The Hero was kneeling, his feral, blue eyes locked on his own. He tilted his head. An invitation.

Shad gave a small smile. Perhaps Link wouldn’t mind sharing just a tad of his adventures. For research purposes, of course.

“So…” he began, with an attempt at levity that left his voice as high as an alter boy’s. He cleared his throat and dropped his tone an octave. “So. That… canon we found, under Renado’s house? Whatever did become of it? I was rather hoping to study it when it… well. Vanished.”

“Ah.” Link let loose a dry laugh. “I forgot about that.” He sighed. “How much do you know about the Twilight Crisis, Shad? I mean, truly know, not that shit that the heralds spewed all over the town.”

Shad blinked, surprised at Link’s tone. He shook his head. He hadn’t asked about the Twilight Crisis, he had wanted to know about the canon! It was a Sky Canon, he was sure of it, and therein held the key to discovering more about the fabled City in the Sky!

But Link was patiently waiting for an answer. Shad gave a genial shrug.

“Oh, not too much more than your common man, I expect. Why? Is this to do with the canon?”

“Yes,” Link said, and Shad cursed himself his impatience. Link winced and got off his knees, sitting cross legged on the wooden floor. He reached for a book and smoothed the cover, unbending a dogeared page.

“I suppose I should have told you before,” he said, placing the title carefully on a pile. “I know how much you’re interested in all that Sky stuff. But it was a Sky Canon.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Shad breathed. “How utterly wonderful! Where is it? Did you discover anything useful about it? What…”

Link smiled as Shad babbled, realised he was babbling, and stopped.

“It’s at Lake Hylia,” he said. “Fyer fixed it up, and it’s on display now. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

Shad reddened. “I-I didn’t have reason to…” he trailed off. The Sky Canon was at Lake Hylia! On display! A monument to Sky Tech, right under his very nose! It wouldn’t take _too_ long to ride there, and what with the roads being safe again, thanks to the wonderfully handsome man across from him… Shad shook himself. He would have to arrange a trip just the very moment all these books were sorted out! He wanted to go now, but… he glanced at Link again.

“I don’t know much about it,” Link continued, turning his attention back to the books. Effortlessly, it seemed, he plucked a frighteningly large volume from behind him as if it weighed no more than a plate. “All I know is that it helped me find one of the Mirror Shards.”

“Oh?” Shad gazed at him, his own slump of books completely ignored. “I’ve read about that. It’s what made up the Mirror of Twilight, a gateway from our realm to the Twilight, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Link said, his eyes on the book in his lap. “It’s shattered. Gone.” He lowered his head. “Gone.”

“Oh, what a terrible shame,” Shad said. “I could have learned so much from that.”

Link didn’t reply. The book in his hands was a lovely thing. It was large and cumbersome, yes, but its cover was a glossy black leather, stamped with flame-red letters and bordered with pale, almost fluorescent blue. Link ran a hand across the cover.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, softly. “What matters is I used the canon to get to the City in the Sky, where I found the Mirror Shard and brought it home. To be destroyed.”

There was a flurry of pages and a clattering of leather as Shad flung himself forward, skidding to a stop in front of Link.

“ _You’ve been to the City in the Sky?_ ” he gasped. “Link! You must tell me! What was it like? Were there people? What did the buildings look like, what was their language? Could you tell me what it sounded like, what it looked like? What was the air concentration, how does it fly? Does it move or remain stationary, does it…?”

Shad trailed off. He was rambling again, and as Link raised his head, he was shocked to see his eyes were red rimmed.

“Oh dear, old boy, are you alright?”

“I’m allergic to dust,” Link said, with a gentle smile. “But don’t worry about it,” he continued as Shad tried to find a duster in their immediate vicinity. “It’s not serious.”

Shad sat back down and crossed his legs, his knees almost touching Link’s as he reached for parchment and pen.

“Tell me _everything_ ,” he said. “Everything you can remember.”

Link kept his eyes on the book in his hands a long moment, before gently placing it to the side of him. He reached for another and filed it away. He took a breath.

“There’s not much to tell,” he said. “I used the canon to get to the Sky City. It’s a bunch of floating buildings. Looked like they used propellers to keep them up.”

“Pro-pell-ers…” Shad muttered, his pen whizzing across the parchment.

“There were Ooccoo there,” Link said. “Sky people. I couldn’t understand when they talked, but one or two could speak Hylian.”

“What did their language sound like?”

Link almost smiled. “Like a turkey on helium.”

Shad snorted and wrote it down. “And?”

Link continued, his baritone soothing and soft. Shad barely noticed, concentrating on scribbling down everything he could. But his notes began to slow as Link’s sentences became shorter, more clipped, almost hesitant, as he detailed a clinical account of his journey through the Sky City, the details sparse, elaborating only when Shad prompted him, or pushed for more detail on the way the pillars were carved, the other creatures that dwelt there, the floor that dropped out from under his feet.

Link did not elaborate on that last point. He merely shrugged.

“It just dropped,” he said. “I had my clawshots. I was fine.”

“Clearly,” Shad said. “And then what?”

“I fought a dragon and came home,” he said, reaching behind him for more books. He had cleared a sizeable chunk of the mess, stacking the tomes neatly in piles according to their subject. Briefly, Shad marvelled that he could give such an account of an adventure of years ago whilst accurately sorting books. Clearly, the man was far more than a handsome face and rippling muscles. He gulped, watching the tunic strain across his chest.

“That’s all?” he said, rather lamely. Link rubbed the back of his neck and avoided his eyes. “Surely you can tell me more!”

“Afraid not,” Link said. “It’s all I remember.”

“Well,” Shad eyed his notes. He had six pages of tightly packed scribbles to pour over. “I can’t thank you enough, old boy. This will do wonders for my research!”

“Glad I could help.”

Shad glanced up at that. Link’s voice was decidedly monotone. He watched as Link sighed and got to his feet.

“I think that’s a good amount for today,” he said, indicating the stacks of books. “I need to get back to the castle, Zelda’s probably frantic. She always worries when I’m not back on time.”

“Oh, dear me, I should have realised!” Shad scrambled to stand. Outside, the sky was dimming, and the lamplighters were beginning their rounds. “I’m terribly sorry, old boy, I do hope you won’t get into trouble.”

“I won’t,” Link said, with a tight smile. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You will?” Shad couldn’t help but smile. The thought of seeing him again, and so soon, sent butterflies dancing through his chest.

“Yeah.” Link indicated the remaining bookalanche. “I said I’d help clear this up. I meant _all_ of it.”

“Oh, that’s terribly kind of you,” Shad said. “I’ll make sure I’ve got a pot of tea ready.”

Link nodded. “Well. See you.”

He edged around the slumps of books, found he couldn’t reach the door, and jumped a clear eight feet from a standing start, landing neatly. Mouth open, Shad watched as he slipped out onto the street, leaving nothing but the ghost of his presence and a summery scent of wheat and forest.

Shad found himself a little breathless. Finally, after all these years, he had knowledge of the City in the Sky, knowledge that possibly no other Hylian, aside from Link himself, and perhaps the princess, had. The things he could do with it! Oh, he just _knew_ it had been a good idea to invite Link for tea, and _what_ a fortuitous turn of events it had been, the poor boy knocking into those books, meaning his kind self offered to stay and help! Now he had more knowledge than he ever dared dream possible!

Giddy with the thought, Shad gathered his notes and made for another room, where he kept a few Sky books secreted away. He attempted to jump the mountain of books as Link had, and ended up sprawling against the side, as a few tomes bounced off his head. He settled for scrambling over them, wincing as the pages ruffled and bent, whispering agonised apologies to the books as the leather seemed to creak in admonishment.

Later, his notes carefully compiled into legible sentences and hidden in the secret drawer of his desk, Shad settled into bed with a hot cup of milk and a juicy romance novel. He couldn’t concentrate on it. Now his fervour at his discovery had died down somewhat, his thoughts turned to the other thing that had been consuming his mind of late.

Link.

There was no denying that the lad was different now. He was quieter, more reserved than he had been before. But he still smiled, still laughed, still was that same old, charming boy he had been when they first met. Just older. Taller. And even more handsome.

Shad shook himself, making a noise not unlike an owl ruffling its feathers. Something did seem a tad off about him though. The more he had talked, the more Shad had pushed him to reveal what he knew about the Sky, the more he seemed to have withdrawn. Shad cursed himself. Blast him and his insatiable curiosity! Looking back, it was more than painfully obvious that the poor boy was uncomfortable speaking of his past adventures.

Shad sighed and looked out the window by his bed. A light rain was falling, tapping against the glass and trickling down in little rivers, meeting and joining with others to race towards the bottom pane. Outside, he could see the slightly blurry, orange glow of the streetlamps. No one was outside, but Shad couldn’t help but wish Link was there. Or even better, inside, with him. He could apologise for his insensitivity. Well. He would do so tomorrow. It was rather unfair of him to push so hard, oblivious to Link’s discomfort. What a fool he was.

Shad cringed under the blankets. What if Link didn’t want to see him again after such a shameful, needy display? What if he made an excuse, and blew the day off? Shad couldn’t blame him, but he desperately wished it wasn’t so. He had made such a fool of himself. No wonder Link had been in such a hurry to leave. It wasn’t even that the books would be left crumpled in heaps, Shad could sort them by himself. It was the fact that he would have to do it alone, without Link’s company.

He sighed and sipped his milk, turning his attention back to his novel. It was a rather cliché tale. A serving girl catches the attention of a handsome prince, and the two begin a passionate relationship, full of furtive meetings and heated, fervent trysts. Such passages left Shad with his glasses steaming. At least, that’s what he told himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that he imagined himself in the place of the serving girl, and imagined a certain, handsome Hero in place of the prince.


	4. Chapter 4

Shad awoke with the dawn the next morning, instantly wracked with guilt about his poor behaviour of the day before, and of his rather shameful actions he had indulged in once he blew out his candle. Red faced, he bathed and dressed, hurrying down to the kitchen to make his breakfast.

He ate quickly, his eyes on the window to his back garden. The previous night’s rain still lay upon the stone, glistening in the grey light. The overgrown plants dripped a steady, slow beat, and the tree at the back sent down a shower of water as a bedraggled blackbird took flight.

Shad eyed his clock. It was barely the eighth hour. Link hadn’t said what time he’d be coming. If he was to come at all. Shad crossed his legs and jittered his ankle, one foot bouncing. Perhaps he should write, send the Hero a letter, apologising for his behaviour. Or would that be foolish? Would he seem desperate? Or would it be foolish not to, to pretend that he did not know the stupidity of his actions, or worse, to ignore them altogether?

Shad dumped his breakfast things in the sink and picked up parchment and pen, drafting, redrafting and writing his heartfelt apology over and over as time ticked by. As he finished his seventh try at his letter, he decided that this would have to do. It had just the right amount of grovelling.

With a sigh, he glanced at the clock. It was a quarter past the tenth hour. Surely, if Link was visiting, he would have arrived by now. Shad sealed the letter in an envelope and addressed it, before clambering over the sea of books to his front door. He opened it to reveal Link, looking very surprised, his fist raised to knock.

“Link!” Shad gasped. “Oh my, I wasn’t expecting you!”

Link’s face relaxed into a grin. “I said I was coming back,” he said. “Sorry if it’s a bit late.” He glanced at the letter in Shad’s hand. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Shad replied, hiding the letter behind his back. “Do come in, old boy, I’ll make tea.” As he stood aside to let Link in, he caught a breath of that strange, summery smell of wheat and forest that make his extremities tingle. As they went to the kitchen, Shad furtively tossed the letter in the fire.

“I’m rather glad you’re here, old boy,” Shad said, pouring tea for them both.

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot of work to do,” Link said. He flashed his smile as Shad passed him a mug. “Thanks.”

“Oh, it’s not the books,” Shad said. Then he paused. What if Link didn’t think he was being rude yesterday at all? He was here, he had come back, just like he promised. Would apologising now seem stupid? He would hate for the Hero of Twilight to think him stupid. “It’s nothing,” he continued, lamely. “I’m just pleased you’re here.”

Link’s smile was softer this time. “Yeah.” He glanced down at his hands. “Look, Shad, I’m sorry I left in such a rush yesterday. It was rude of me.”

Shad blinked. _Link_ was apologising to _him_? “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about!” he said, flapping his hands. “You’ve got a great many important things to do, I’m sure.”

“I guess,” Link said. “But all the same. I should have at least said a proper goodbye.”

“Forget about it,” Shad said, waving his hand. “Now then. Shall we take another stab at those books? Not literally,” he added, eyeing the magnificent sword on Link’s back. Link just smiled.

In the back room once again, they settled back into their places and began to sort through the sea of paper and leather. Shad was quiet as he watched Link, only keeping one eye on his sorting. He only needed one eye, he knew his books so well he could sort them by touch alone, if he needed to. Link was just as silent, concentrating on his task, his brow furrowed just a little, his lips forming the slightest purse each time he scanned the title of a new tome.

Shad let the silence build. It was not an uncomfortable silence, more a companionable silence of two people working together, towards the same goal, with no need for words. But Shad found he craved conversation. He missed the gentle baritone of Link’s voice, missed the connection he felt their spoken word brought. But all the same, he kept his tongue firmly between his teeth.

If he was right, as he suspected, using logic and reason (the things he was good at), Link didn’t particularly like talking about himself. Or his adventures. But what did that leave? His research? How dull for the poor boy. Besides. He seemed perfectly comfortable working in silence. Best to let him set the pace, to demonstrate what he feels at ease with. For if he was comfortable, then Shad was happy.

He was even happier to watch the Hero as he worked, the litheness of his body, so corded with muscle, yet not burly and barrel-shouldered like so many of the guards he had seen clanking about. There was a certain grace to him, an ease of movement gifted to those in complete control of their body. Shad had only ever noticed such grace in professional dancers, or the contortionists of Purlo’s STAR circus tent. He wondered briefly if Link knew how to dance.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, a light sheen of sweat formed on Link’s brow. Without a word, he shrugged off his weapons belt and pulled his tunic over his head, leaving nothing but a short-sleeved, cotton shirt. The material was light and fine, and Shad had no trouble seeing more of Link’s torso than he could have hoped in all his years. He found his mouth as dry as the desert, unable to look away as Link returned to his work, oblivious to the scholar’s attention.

Shad felt his cheeks flood with colour as Link stretched behind him to gather another stack of books, bringing the heavy volumes effortlessly before him, the movement stretching his shirt across his chest, revealing every line and curve and divot.

“M-more tea?” Shad managed to stammer.

Link looked up.

“Sure,” he said, and bent his head to the books again. Shad scrambled into the kitchen, where he leaned his head against the wall, relishing the cool plaster against his fevered brow. He sighed, and stepped back.

“You must stop this nonsense,” he muttered, turning on the flame below the kettle. “The poor boy must get enough attention as it is. Why would he ever look at you? Why, when every beautiful man and maid in the kingdom must vie for his affections? The very princess herself is soft for him, if rumour is to be believed. Cease these frivolous indulgences, Shad old boy. It will only lead to heartbreak.”

He returned to the back room with two cups of steaming tea. Link accepted his with a smile and settled back, leaning against the wall, as Shad perched on the arm of his chair, now finally free enough of books to do so. He watched the Hero carefully as he stared into the distance, occasionally raising his cup to blow the steam off the rim, but not yet drinking.

The silence was maddening.

“Forgive me, old boy,” Shad said, surprising himself. Link turned to him, and Shad was once again struck by the blueness, the hidden ferocity of his eyes.

“I know you were never really much one for conversation,” he said. “The Divines give me grace, you always had enough on your plate to want to avoid pointless chatter. But you’ve seemed… exceptionally quiet today, old boy. Is something troubling you?”

Shad watched in dismay as Link’s neutral, yet pleasant expression seemed to freeze, as though a thin frost crept down from his brow, turning his every feature cold. His smile widened, and though it seemed to be a friendly gesture on the surface, Shad could have sworn the temperature of the room dropped by a degree or two.

“I’m fine, Shad,” Link said. “But thank you for asking. I just have things on my mind, and I'm not in the mood for talking. I’m sorry if this offends you.”

“I’m not offended,” Shad replied, flapping his hand. “Merely concerned for you, old boy.”

Link’s smile tightened. “Thank you, Shad. If only the rest of the word were so considerate.”

Shad nodded cautiously as Link turned back to his tea, drained it in two long swallows, and went back to work. The scholar himself took a little longer with his tea. Barely five minutes out of the kettle, it was not long past boiling point. How Link had managed to consume such a scalding beverage astounded him, but he said nothing. Despite Link’s words, he could not help but feel there were things left unsaid.

So he sat, and, against his dearest wishes, remained silent, watching the Hero as he sorted through the books, sipping gently at his tea, afraid to stir, afraid to break the silence for fear of upsetting the wonderful man before him. Half an hour passed. He swirled the last mouthful of tea around the bottom of his cup, when Link finally spoke.

“The princess has ordered the Historia to be updated,” he said. His voice was tight, as though each word pained him to speak.

“Oh?” Shad leant forwards. The Hyrule Historia was the realm’s greatest work of history, updated every decade or so to include more recent, notable events. It was a truly valuable source of information, though it often left out the more interesting titbits of history, favouring mainly the history of the royal family, the triforce, Heroes of ages past and political events of magnitude.

“Yes.” Link clipped the word as efficiently as a nail. “She wants an account of the Twilight Crisis included.”

“Well, that would make sense,” Shad said. “It was a rather… historical event.”

Link’s smile was grim. “You could say that. Trouble is, she wants me to tell my side of it. She’s setting up an appointment with a royal scholar in the next week or so to go over everything.”

“I get the sense that you’d rather not,” Shad said, gently. He hesitated, then continued. “Was it that hard? Were the trials you faced so difficult to speak of?”

Link turned to him then, and Shad glimpsed a thousand expressions warring across his face, and a thousand emotions burning in his eyes. But he gave a grin, and then there was nothing but the whiteness of his teeth, the crinkle in the corners of his eyes, the softness of his skin.

“I have little time for stuffy, pompous scroll-weevils,” he said. “That’s all. I can’t imagine anything worse than being trapped in a room with such a prick, forced to talk for days about something that’s really rather simple.”

Shad shared in his smile, though somewhat tentatively.

“I know I struggle to speak of my part on occasion,” Shad said. “Though I did very little in comparison to you. Perhaps…” inspiration struck and he seized upon it like a drowning man clings to a raft. “Perhaps it would be better to speak with a friend of such things. To converse with a companion is surely preferable to a… pompous scroll-weevil.”

Link barked a harsh laugh. “You make a good point, Shad. But where in the realm would I find a friend who could make the kind of account Zelda wants?”

Shad’s smile was shy. “Well, old boy. I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, but I happen to be rather good at this scholarly thing.”

For the first time all day, Link looked at him properly. He huffed a gentle chuckle, and the ghost of a genuine smile appeared on his lips as his shoulders relaxed.

“That’s not a bad idea at all, Shad,” he said. “I think I could put up with you.”

Shad felt as though the sun had settled in his chest.


	5. Chapter 5

Shad stumbled downstairs the following morning in a sleep-befuddled tizz. He had hardly slept, his waking mind so full of visions of Link that he had been reluctant to close his eyes, lest his dreams be incomparable to the reality of the Hero. Link had promised to speak with the princess upon his return to the castle, to suggest Shad himself as the very scholar to take his account of the Twilight Crisis.

Not only was this one of the highest honours he could possibly hope to attain, to have his name inscribed as a _co-author_ of the Hyrule Historia, to be there for evermore, surely the proudest achievement of his life, but he was now guaranteed to see Link again.

He flapped through the house in his dressing gown, noting with some despair the neat stacks of books in the back room. It was _too_ orderly. Link was so efficient, the job was nearly complete, with only a small mound of unsorted books as yet to be filed.

Shad groaned as he tripped into the kitchen. He hadn’t watered his plants, last night’s dinner things lay unwashed and crusting next to the sink, and he hadn’t dusted in a week! Had Link not said he had a dust allergy?

Shad scurried back into the hall in search of a duster, throwing a cup of water at the nearest plant as he went. The slightly wilting leaves shook as the water hit them, almost as if they were scolding him for forgetting about them.

He glanced at the timepiece on the wall, noting the hour. Link would be here soon, and he was nowhere near ready! He had overslept like the fool that he was, what would the Hero think of him if he were to arrive and see his house a mess, the scholar himself in his threadbare dressing gown and ratty old slippers?

Shad checked his hair in the mirror and let out a soft wail. If his morning was not stressful enough, there seemed to be a gosh-darned _spot_ of all things developing on his forehead! He thundered up the stairs, washed as quickly as he could and dressed in his nicest shirt and waistcoat, fiddling with his hair and prodding at the crimson patch above his eyebrow, wincing as it simply made it angrier and redder.

He flew back to the kitchen as the timepiece dinged out nine chimes. Link may not be the best at keeping his time, but he was never much later than their agreed hour! He skidded to a stop before his sink and began to scrub frantically at the dirty plates as the back door opened.

Shad turned with a squeak as Link appeared in the kitchen, and the plate slid from his grasp to shatter against the floor.

Shad gasped and Link swore, both bending to the plate at the same time. Their hands touched as they both reached for the broken stoneware. Shad jerked his hand back reflexively, then smiled shyly at Link.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said. “I’m such a clumsy beast.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Link said, scooping the shattered plate into a pile. “I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. It looked like I scared the pants off you.”

 _You wouldn’t need to scare me to get my pants off,_ Shad thought, then blushed at the scandalous image. “Oh, no, old boy, I don’t mind at all. My home is yours, as they say!” he shot the Hero a timid glance. “Why the back door, old boy? Not that I mind you invading my back…” he bit off the end of the sentence as his cheeks burned.

Link laughed. “There were a few curious people on the streets today,” he said. “They were eager to make my acquaintance. I was less keen.”

“Ah. Well, you are famous, old boy,” Shad said. “I’m not surprised they want to get to know you. You are a charming sort.”

Link offered a smile and gathered the plate, depositing the larger shards in the bin as Shad fumbled for a dustpan and brush. He spotted a splinter of clay under the table and reached for it. He yelped as the sharp edge slid along his thumb, splitting his skin as easily as cut glass. Beads of blood welled and he jerked back, sticking it in his mouth.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Link was by his side in a second. “Let me see.”

Embarrassed, Shad removed his thumb from between his lips and offered it to the younger man. Link took his hand in his own, his touch achingly gentle, and observed the damage.

“Nothing serious,” he declared. “Here.”

He reached into his pouch and drew out a tiny dressing, wrapping it around the wound and fixing it with a small bandage. He smiled as Shad stared and looked up at him.

“T-thank you,” he said. “Terribly sorry for the trouble…”

“It’s no trouble,” Link replied, still smiling. Shad swallowed. They were awfully close. He only had to lean forwards a bit, and they would be almost nose to nose. Again, he was struck by just how devastatingly handsome the Hero was. The way his skin was still so smooth, even with that delectable shadow on his jaw. So perfectly tan, as if a naturally pale man had spent weeks in spectacular sunlight. His jaw, so strong and chiselled. His nose, long and sharp. And his eyes… the eyes of the sky, of a thousand blues, with a depth to them that spoke of half a hundred lifetimes lived, though surely that was not possible…

Shad swallowed as Link’s hands slid from his own. What he wouldn’t give to touch that glorious face, to run his fingers through that thicket of darkly golden hair! But he couldn’t… could he?

Link rose before Shad could decide what to do.

“I’ll make a start,” he said. “I think we’re nearly done. If we focus, we’ll be finished before the day’s out.”

Shad remained where he was, kneeling on the cool tiles. He gingerly picked up the shard of plate and flicked it towards the bin. It landed with a gentle _clink_ , and Shad wished Link had been there to see his sudden skill. He rose with a sigh. There would be other opportunities, if he was to take Link’s account of his adventures. More time to spend with the Hero of Twilight, more time to get to know him, more time to grow close.

The thought was somewhat frightening. What would happen if they did? Shad knew what he wanted, what he dreamed of. But dreams were so often a magnification of reality, a rose-tinted garden of bliss. Real life was cruel. Who was to say that any affection between them would be as passionate and loving as he imagined?

Poor Link was already raised on an impossible pedestal by the citizens of Hyrule. It would be terribly unfair of him to do the same. But… there was no denying it. The man was wonderful. In every sense of the word. He was stoic and strong, gentle when needed, kind and compassionate. And there was clearly something on his mind, something of a great and terrible nature, as the storybooks liked to put it. However could he, Shad, help the Hero overcome whatever plagued him so?

And how would their story end?

Shad rose and turned on the flame beneath the kettle, listening to the shuffling sounds coming from his back room. His mouth turned down. Link had said it would take less than a day for the remainder of the books to be sorted. Less than a day before he was left alone again. Perhaps Link was only here out of a sense of duty, out of a sense of obligation. A need to help a man in need.

He sighed and poured water into the teapot, watching the water stream through the tea leaves, staining it a dark brown. Though he knew he would see the Hero again, to speak of his adventures and write them down for the greatest book Hyrule had ever known, it didn’t feel right. These three days had been wonderful, spent together in the safety of his bookshop. Would it be the same, sequestered away somewhere in the castle?

Shad stirred the tea and poured, his mouth set in a grim line. Picking up the two cups, he made his slow way into the back room to find Link kneeling in front of the horribly small pile, two books in his hands, his weapons leaning against the chair. He looked up as Shad entered and laid the books down to accept his tea.

“Thank you.” He nodded at the two tomes with a slight smile. “I’m at a bit of a loss with these two. I’d have thought they belonged with your history section, but the blurbs seem a bit fanciful, almost like they’re fictional? Where do they go?”

Shad knelt down next to Link, peering at the covers, using the excuse to brush his knee against the other man’s.

“Ah,” he smiled. “These are two of my favourites. You are correct on both accounts, old boy. They are historical fiction.”

“I’m sorry?” Link frowned and tilted his head to the side. “How can something be both historical and fictitious?”

Shad chuckled. “They are stories set in a time long ago,” he explained. “The period of history forms the setting for the tale, and a lot of the events were true events. But the story the characters weave is their own.”

He set his cup down and reached for the nearest, an elegant volume of deep blue, bordered in crimson.

“This, for example, is set over a hundred years ago, in a very dark period of Hyrule’s history,” he said, caressing the cover. “History tells us that the evil Ganondorf once took over our dear kingdom for a period of seven years, before the ancient Hero rose up to defeat him.” He glanced at Link, whose face was expressionless. He stared at the cover, and gave a curt nod.

“And?”

“And, that’s the setting, the real history. The fiction is the story of a plucky young adventurer encountering various trials and tribulations during this time, solving a mystery and winning the respect of his peers,” Shad said. “But this one,” he picked up the second book, coloured the rosy pink of a lady’s blushing cheeks. “Is my preferred. It is set in the same time period, but tells the story of a beautiful romance developing between a serving girl and the ancient Hero, when he came to live at the castle. It’s rather lovely.”

Shad looked up with a smile, and found Link’s expression to be stony. He blinked.

“What is it?”

“Hm?” Link shook his head and smiled. “Nothing. I just don’t understand why people would lie about things like that. The ancient Hero was never in a relationship with a servant.”

“Oh,” Shad looked down at the book. “It is only a story, dear boy, told to entertain. There’s no harm in it.”

“I guess.” Link tilted his head and drained his tea in three long swallows. Shad winced, it was still piping hot. “I’ll put them in the fiction section then, thanks.”

He took the books and twisted to file them away. Shad chewed a nail, his eyes on Link’s torso, their knees still touching. Link sighed and picked up another book, filing it away quickly before moving on to another. He had sorted through four before Shad spoke up.

“Have you ever read this?” he picked a book at random. “It’s ever so interesting, it is one of my favourites!”

Link peered at the cover. “The mating habits of Gorons and their distant sapient relatives?” he read, his eyebrows rising. Shad felt his cheeks flame as the Hero raised his eyes to his. “You have some unique tastes, my friend.”

“I… um… well…” Shad floundered, until Link grinned, his eyes alight with mischief.

“I’m teasing you,” he said. “Give it here, I’ll put it in… biology, I guess?”

“Yes,” Shad replied, meekly. He grabbed another tome, a heavy thing with a thick, golden cover. “Now, this,” he said, hefting it. “Cost a very pretty rupee indeed. It is a simple anthology of poetry, and I have another edition, but this is rare. See the intricate filigree on the cover, the embossed title, the tiny rubies along the spine? It’s worth a fortune.”

Link sat patiently as Shad rambled, his hands in his lap.

“It took years to find,” Shad continued, trying to slow down, to draw out his words. “And once I did, it was a real trial haggling for the price, and even then I was sure the merchant would send people after me, to get it back!”

Link nodded. “That’s interesting,” he said. “I’d love to hear more.”

Shad beamed, but Link took the book from his hands, holding it gently. “But we need to finish this. Come on.”

He tucked the golden tome carefully away, and turned back to the pile, his hands flitting out and snaring books by the spine, his eyes skimming the covers before filing them away. Shad bit his lip. If anything, Link seemed to be working harder than he had before.

 _He must really want to leave me,_ Shad thought. Morose, he picked up a book himself and rose, dragging his heels to the shelf and storing it away. He fiddled with the spines, pulling a few out and rearranging them.

“More tea?” he said, suddenly.

“Hm?” Link barely glanced up. “Oh, none for me, thanks. I don’t want to risk spilling any.”

Shad pouted, then grinned. “How about I whip up a spot of cake? I’m getting rather good at this baking thing now, you know.”

Link paused, his hand hovering over the pile.

“Ah, maybe another day,” he said, glancing up. “I wouldn’t say no if Zelda selects you to take down notes for the _Historia_. I think I’d need a pick me up then.”

“If?” Shad blinked. “She hasn’t decided?”

Link laughed. “Shad, I was fairly straight with her. I told her I wouldn’t do it unless it was you taking the notes.” He rose, a stack of books in his arms. “She said she’d consider it, but that’s a formality. It’s pretty much a guarantee.”

“Oh!” Shad clapped his hands and bounced a little. “What marvellous news!” and before his courage left him, he bounded forward and wrapped his arms around Link’s neck in a tight hug.

“Woah!” Link staggered, fumbling the books. “Steady on there, Shad.”

“My apologies,” Shad let go and jumped back, unable to ignore the scent of wheat and forests that had invaded his nose, the rough cotton of the tunic a memory against his fingertips, the muscles carved of oak underneath his arms. “It’s just… Ah…”

“Don’t worry,” Link said, stepping around the scholar to heft the books onto the shelves. “It’s a big deal for you, getting to pen a work that will go in the _Historia_. I’ve heard scholars have killed for less.”

“Yes… that’s right.” Shad looked away and down to the ever dwindling pile of books. “That’s exactly right, old boy.”

As Link turned back to his work, Shad sank to his knees on the other side of the pile, unable to take his eyes off the man before him. His hands moved slowly, picking up books at random and sorting them without thought. It seemed as though time was speeding up, the light sliding across the room as the sun made its hasty way through the sky. Shad cursed it.

There was still so much he had not said, so much he had not done! In three simple days, he had experienced an attraction like nothing he had before. There had been dalliances in his past, of course, brief, stolen nights of passion with eager young men, or stalwart, older gentlemen, as shy as he, though gruffer. There were certain places in Hyrule where one could frequent that catered to tastes not encouraged by the masses, and Shad wondered if he would ever find his Hero there.

Probably not. Link didn’t seem the type to _pay_ for a dalliance, or frequent such hidden houses of ill repute. He would not be short of eager men and women to fling themselves to his side, if all he did was ask.

Shad went cold. What if he already had someone? Someone special, that turned his limbs to water with a look, that made his heart race as he made Shad’s race? Someone who he could not help but think about in the _most_ scandalous of ways, but also in a tender, intimate fashion?

He bit his lip. If that were so… the pain would be unbearable.

He shook himself. He was being silly! Just silly! He was but a lowly scholar, a nobody who obsessed over books and could barely keep his house in order! He stared at his fists, his knuckles white, the bandage on his thumb spotted with a dot of crimson. Link deserved better.

He reached out again to find the space in between them empty.

“Oh.” Shad looked up. The books were neatly stacked and ordered, almost as they had been before the bookalanche. Link was grinning at him.

“That went faster than expected,” he said. “But I suppose time does move swiftly in good company.”

Shad offered a weak smile in return. “Yes… I suppose it does, old boy.”

He rose, rubbing the ache out of his thighs. “I suppose… you’ll be getting back to the castle now, hm?”

Link rose as well, his hand already reaching for his weapons. But he hesitated, and glanced over.

“I don’t have to go right this second,” he said, his voice soft. “If that offer of tea is still available, there are no books for me to spill it on, now.”

Shad gave a soft laugh. “Of course. Wait right there, I’ll be back.”

He hurried to the kitchen, mopping his eyes with his handkerchief. He gave a great sniff. So now, their time was over. They would have their tea, and he would leave, and that would be that. It was too great a hope to imagine Link had truly convinced the Princess Zelda to take him on as a royal scholar, if only for the time it took to write the Hero’s account of his adventures. No, this would be it, their last meeting for a long time, perhaps ever…

He let out a tiny sob and filled the kettle, scolding himself for his foolishness.

“Shad?”

Shad started and almost dropped the kettle. Link was in the doorway, alarm on his face.

“What’s wrong? Is it your thumb?”

“It’s nothing, old boy,” Shad replied, turning away and hurriedly wiping his eyes. “Just a touch of dust allergy, like you.”

“I don’t have a dust allergy,” Link said, frowning. Then, his face cleared. “Ah.”

He came closer and took the kettle. “Sit down. Let's talk.”

Shad obediently slid into a chair at the scrubbed table as Link made the tea, and soon brought two steaming cups over. He settled opposite and fixed the scholar with a gentle smile.

“Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he asked.

Shad chuckled. “No more than you desire to tell me what’s on yours,” he replied. Link barked a soft laugh.

“I guess I deserved that. I haven’t exactly been forthcoming, have I?”

Shad didn’t reply, but stared into the murky depths of his tea, his bespectacled, owlish reflection staring back at him through magnified eyes. He sighed. Link cleared his throat.

“I don’t want to be presumptuous, or make assumptions,” he began, and stopped. Shad looked up to find him rubbing the back of his neck, looking away. “Ah, hell. Never mind. I’ve never been any good at this.”

He rose and moved to the sink, running the tap and washing his hands. Shad blinked and leapt to his feet, his heart suddenly hammering.

“It’s alright,” he said, and approached. “I understand, old boy. I feel the same. Words… for all my skill with them, seem to fail me when they are most needed.”

“Poetic,” Link observed. “You’re more skilled with words than me.”

“Than _I_ ,” Shad corrected, with a smile. He stepped closer. Did he dare? “Simple grammar, old boy. But I can teach you. There are many things I wish to teach you.”

They were close enough to touch. Link turned, his brows rising to see Shad so close. And, before he could stop to consider what he was doing, Shad leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the Hero’s lips.

It was everything he could have dreamed. His lips were soft and warm, the stubble on his chin just tickling Shad’s smooth skin, his breath hot on his cheek. For two, glorious seconds, they stood, then Link stepped back.

Shad stumbled, his heart pounding, his skin flushed. He opened his eyes, and his heart sank. Link was looking at him, not with adoration or hope, but with surprise, and hesitation.

“Shad…” he managed, his brows knitting. “I’m sorry. I… don’t know what I did to…”

Shad turned away, his chest suddenly hollow. “No, dear boy, it is I who am sorry.” He ran his hands through his hair and sighed explosively. “I don’t know what I was thinking! I am such a fool!”

He kicked the cupboard door and cursed, before turning to face Link.

“I shall leave within the week,” he declared, fighting the tears that threatened to well in his eyes. “I have conducted myself with great impropriety, and I have disgraced myself. Fear not, you won’t hear from me-“

“Shad!” Link stepped forward. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want you to leave!”

Shad paused, hope blooming. “Then…?”

Link shook his head. “I’m… sorry. I don’t sweep that side of the courtyard, Shad.”

“But…”

“And I don’t care if you do,” he stepped closer. “I’m your friend, Shad, nothing about you would stop that. I care about you, you’ve helped me in more ways than one, and you’ve been as steadfast an ally as I could ever want.”

“But… my actions… you must despise me, and wish me gone.” Shad hung his head.

“Of course I don’t want you to go!” Link grinned, though sympathy burned in his eyes. “You’ve got to help me with my account, remember?”

Shad managed a chuckled. “I do.” He sighed. “I am sorry, old boy. I let my feelings overwhelm my good sense. I should have realised you already had someone.”

“I don’t,” Link said. “But… we’re friends.” He placed a warm hand on Shad’s shoulder. “Can we remain so? I don’t want us to fall out.”

“Nor I,” Shad said. “But I am most dreadfully embarrassed.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Link said. “Don’t think me arrogant to say it’s… something I’ve gotten used to, recently.”

He sat back at the table.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s have our tea. And I believe I was promised cake?”

Shad managed to smile. “For the account, old boy, remember?”

Link sighed. “Damn it.”

Shad settled in opposite, the shame of his actions still burning, but dampened somewhat by the fact that Link was still there, still smiling, and still his friend.


End file.
